The Grotto of Jacuzzi
The dogs kenneled, and my neighbors retreating to their beds for the night, I emerged from my house, weary from the day but steadfast and eager for my trip. I uncover the spa and set the jets to max, to help me adjust to my trip before I enter. The water is warm, bordering hot to the touch as I take a seat in the deepest seat on the edge of the whirlpool in the middle. I relax in the jets for a short while, feeling the spouts of water pulverizing my aches and sores in my back as I cleanse myself in that chlorinated white water. It is a ritual I undertake before my journey. I quickly work off my swim trunks and discard them at a table just beside the gateway; I will not need them where I will be going.
Cleaned by man made chemicals and sound of mind, I closed my eyes and covered my nose before I forced myself head first into that gurgling maelstrom. For a moment, I am tossed about by the jets of water battering my body and twisting it in all directions. Then, I feel myself pulled deeper inside by some unknown, unnatural current, far deeper than the jacuzzi should be. I hear the water rushing by my head and past my body as I am pulled ever deeper, my ears and body crushed at the rapidly shifting pressure.
Then, all at once, it stops, and I find myself floating somewhere new, a place clearly not the desert lake house I know so well.
I am in a seaside grotto now, the water warm on the surface as a rising sun reflects glittering, orange rays across a vast sea and through a large, rocky opening before me. There are no seagulls or obtrusive wildlife, all that remains here is the sound of my breath and the gentle rocking of miniature waves across miniature rock faces. I am not alone for long.
Eventually, three shadows entered the grotto, moving beneath the water’s surface and headed directly towards me. Two of the shadows are slender torpedo-esque shapes while the third a more bulbous, tangled looking mass with a singular pointed tip. They stop before me, and emerge quietly and politely, each revealing themselves to me with grace and familiarity.
There is the one with a pink fish tail for legs, with a flushed, fair face covered by pink hair covered by a red cap with a full body and a voluptuous chest; the merrow. Beside her there is the blue skinned one, with two legs ending in fins and various tattoos about her lithe figure, one that has tried to hold me under the water so many times as long, black, almost stringey hair obscured her womanly face, a nereid through and through. Finally there is the mass, a tomboyish girl with a young face and beautiful, short blonde hair, with a lower body that ended in a mass of tentacles that as creeped towards me as I relaxed on the rock bank, my scylla.
With a short bow, they approach me on the surface, taking places beneath my outstretched arms and around my neck as they embrace me, chattering and glad to see me as I rest in the quickly warming waters. They trace fingers up my limbs, eager to take in every inch of me as I let them have their way, trusting of their treatment. The merrow gives a wink and dives beneath the water, the scylla takes her place at my back as the nereid is content to remain postured next to me, her arms around my neck in a delighted embrace. They each have their own method of greeting me after my absence, one I hate to have to bestow upon them so often.
The nereid wastes no time, and cups my chin in her webbed hand as she moves forward to kiss me; I can only reciprocate her love for being away for so long. Her tongue mingles with mine between our mouths, neither of us pressing any advantage to outdo the other. She is slippery, and her tongue is tasteless save that of the salt from the sea she lived in. She pulls me close, eager to go as deep as she can as she wraps an arm around my neck, the other bracing against my head as I wrap my arms about her waist.
Beneath the water, the merrow takes a more forward approach. She takes my member in hand and begins to kiss it, encouraging me to rise before very long. Her mouth envelops me, her tongue dancing about my gland as she takes my jewels in hand, rubbing and massaging them as treasures worth cherishing. Eventually she lets me exit her cavern, and instead beaches me upon the outcrop of her chest, forcing the tip of my manhood against her nipple as her hand moves up and down, her dexterity unfettered by the water.
Behind me, the scylla gets to work, putting rough, calloused hands upon my shoulders as her tentacles latched upon my back. With rippling muscle and fierce determination, she begins to knead at my skin, working from the small of my back to my shoulder blades as tentacle and hand both work to shape me up. Suckers puckering and elbows greasing, she worked diligently and expertly to relieve me of my burdens. Even as she faced the complex task before her, working limb after limb after limb, she grew ambitious, and moved downwards, past the knees and to my feet where cephalopod grippers worked at my soul.
The merrow and nereid, jealous of such overreach, surfaced from their activities and voiced their fury, something the scylla returned with just as much zeal. Eventually, one of them looked to the mouth of the grotto and let out a shocked scream, causing the other two to quit bickering and to look at the horror approaching them.
Beneath the water, a blackened shape approached, a pitch black fin piercing the surface as it made its way inside. Directly towards me and my companions. The girls shrieked and splashed away, putting distance between what would be the meeting place of me and this intruder. With a great splash, what emerged before me was the quarrelsome new arrival to this place of relaxation; one eager for conquest. She was beautiful, in a crude sense, with short, dark blue hair that covered a smug face lined with sharp teeth. Her legs were a smooth, tail with fins with skin that was leathery and rough to the touch, with a black coating and a white belly that covered what could only be taut muscle. She was a mershark, on the prowl for easy prey.
She towered over me, leaning against me as she noted with glee my excitement from the merrow’s encouragement. She thrust her chest into my face, obscuring my vision as her hand reached beneath the water to grip me, steering me like a ship into her own grotto. With soft, velvet insides enveloping me, she softly moaned and looked down at me. She wrapped her arms around my head to force me deeper into her white cliffs as she began to move. Unimpeded by the water, she forced herself up and down upon me as water dripped from her face and chest onto my neck. Her grin soon turned from sadistic glee to barely restrained pleasure as she began to pick up the pace, seemingly flustered by my own calm reaction to her assault; one she could not keep up for long.
With a final drop, she held me closer as she lost control, my member working with my will to keep from being crushed in the tidal wave of ecstasy. Her body twitched again and again as she buried her face in my hair, hoping to spare herself the embarrassment of being overcome. Soon she softens, her muscles no longer bulging against my ears as I take the opportunity to pull her back down to my level, bringing me face to face with a scared, nervous predator.
“Stranger stranger, what do you want for?” I ask her.
The Mershark says, tears forming in her eyes, “Nothing at all.”
I gently push the mershark back, getting her to release her hold upon me as I take her hand and beckon for the others to approach. I calmed them down and told them to put their rocks for a makeshift defense down. There was enough for each of us, and that there would be no want in my apologies for being absent; not even for the newcomer.
They approached one by one as I gently moved the mershark away to watch, to see how it was done.
First was the nereid, who sat in my lap with her legs wrapping around my waist. With reckless abandon she bounced up and down, uncaring for the water and seemingly uncaring for myself. She puts her hands upon my chest to support herself and to try and push me deeper into the water, something I resist against as she throws herself upon me. With frenzied gyrating, she hugs me close and dives into my mouth as I release inside her, the rush of my essence sending her over the wave of passion.
The tomboy was next to demand my attention. Pushing away the nereid, the tomboy immediately usurped the throne of my lap. I flick her forehead, scolding her impatience even as our guest waits her turn, claws massaging her bosom and womanhood. With a blush the scylla apologizes, and turns about with a plea to embrace her. It is a plea I answer, as my cock slides into her entrance. Her tentacles wrap about my person, pulling me closer to her heart as I lean into her, slowly drilling into her with my being. I cup her breast in hand as I finish, her hand cupping my own as she takes me in an all encompassing embrace. As if savoring a flavor devoured, she held me in the clinch for a brief moment, before releasing me and moving aside for the next in line.
The merrow gently took her place between my legs, as her hand was between her own. She presses her bare chest against me and moves her entire body, as if pouring her entire being into me. She presses her chest together, stroking my cock with the enthusiasm only matched by childhood friends. I reach down to cup her chin as she looks into my eyes, joyful at the opportunity. I climax, covering her with my pearly seed as she takes what I’ve given her before rubbing it into her own clammy lips. Last was the newcomer and fourth to the new quartet, still patiently but anxiously waiting for my touch.
I beckon her to a flat section of rock and lay her flat against it, leaving me face to face with her on a more level setting. I enter her softly, watching as she softly retains a moan as she continues to clutch at her chest in nervousness. “It’s alright, all your new friends are here,” I reassured her. I picked up my pace and encouraged her to let her voice ring through the grotto, that there’s no need for her tough act. She lets a cry of joy from her chest as I hug her close, her leathery skin a velvet sofa I can lay upon. Her nails dig into my back as I finish, her second ending like a roaring tsunami.
Satisfied and relaxed, I helped the shark from the stone and introduced her to her new companions, who welcomed her with open arms. With the same flourish they entered with, the trio, now a quartet, gave a bow before disappearing beneath the water. Their silhouettes filed out of the grotto and into the greater plane of the sea as I relaxed in my own spot. I would only stay here a short time longer; it was time for me to leave.
In much the same fashion, I close my eyes and dive beneath the water. It’s not long before I feel the pull again. The briefest of journeys later, I reemerge in the spa, now calm as its jets have deactivated. Though it pained me to leave that wonderful, seaside grotto, I still had responsibilities here that needed to be discharged. As much as it pained me, despite the spa’s masseuse-like treatment, the girls would need to wait for a time before I could return to them.
One day, I will return. Someday sooner after that, I will return for good. The current that drew me back to this desert-side lake was weaker, as I had suspected. It would not be long before it disappeared completely, leaving me stranded in that other world, where my fate would be unknown to those that knew me. I write this as my memoir for where I will return, my affairs in order and my destination yet unknown to those who knew me but wish to know what happened.